


Anthurium

by manciissuperior



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Arguing, Hurt No Comfort, Kind of Sad Ending, M/M, Metaphors, Swearing, Toxic Relationships, Winter, friends with benefits kind of beat, im sorry for the tags, kind of unrequited love, looot of angst im sorry, mentioned eating disorder but not really, no beta we die like their relationship, sad gay blockmen as always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:13:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27690521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manciissuperior/pseuds/manciissuperior
Summary: Nothing was always better than anything.Nothing took into account what he wanted - if there was anything he wanted.Nothing didn't take advantage of him.Nothing didn't hurt him.(Anthurium plants are poisonous due to calcium oxalate crystals - as wikipedia says.)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 18





	Anthurium

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for clicking on my fic! i hope you enjoy :) 
> 
> also, i used real names so if you feel uncomfortable with that - im sorry! this is all for fun and giggles, i do not mean to harm anyone !! :)

Maybe if he had known, it might not have been so cold now.  
Maybe it wouldn't be so cold.  
Maybe.

* * *

Clay blew heavily into the icy palms of his and then rubbed them together to see if their heat could melt into each other and turn into a burning candle in the snowfall. Literally. It might not have been a very good idea to stand out on the patio in mid-December, but somehow he had to get to some fresh air - and he had no other idea how to.  
He really felt like he was just overreacting the thing, he was always overreacting everything, but he thought it was enough to favor himself and those idiotic, idiotic feelings.   
He didn’t go much with them — since he didn’t understand his own, not that of others', so he became more and more anxious about what was going on in his head.   
He hasn’t slept well in months and is running away from his problems. It might not have been a very good idea either - beyond that he was still, minus how many degrees as he stood on the patio, leaning on the icy grid with one hand and holding a glass in the other. Many times he thought alcohol was the solution to his problems - even though he was only generating more and more for himself.  
Oh, but those hands - he would say because he always buried his face in them and let them play with his hair. Though in most of these cases, he wasn't looking for the other either - yet they both considered each other the paradise, the feeling that pulled them out of the mud, even though it only pushed them both deeper and deeper into it.   
Although only he could have thought so - he believed that the other felt the same way, he thought, the same way he did.   
He didn't even know the answer to that - and he didn't look any further.

* * *

  
Although, on the other hand, George, even though he was aware of the other's feelings, simply couldn't take the situation seriously. He just went into this whole 'Call me if I need something, I will give my body' thing, just for fun, since who wouldn’t undertake to be rammed into the sheet by a literal Greek god? Exactly, he would have answered.  
The thing is, he would have answered it at first like this, but since he had long felt that something was wrong with their relationship, and why would he have dealt with it if he had received the same as he had wanted at first? Sex. And they stay friends. That's it. Easy.   
It's a gain - for him at least, probably not for Clay. But who was he to deal with that?  
And he fucked up here.  
And he didn't understand why. 

* * *

  
“Would you like to come over? I am bored"  
"How about we watch a movie the other day?"  
"Are you coming over?"- he had typed the same message for the thousandth time until he got an answer. Until George wrote back a “Well, You miss me so much? :) ”.  
Until he felt more and more lost without the other. It may not have been too healthy to cling to him so much, but who would he be to take care of his problems?  
He was his own problem at this point and didn’t even dare admit it to himself - maybe he was doing the right thing. He wanted to feel safe, and if the devastation had given him that — do it! — many would have told him.  
Only he wouldn't have.  
Only he wouldn't have.  
And he still did it and did it and did it - and he had no idea how stupid he was for it.   
But who would have he been if he knew, right?

* * *

  
Clay blew heavily into the icy palms of his and then rubbed them together to see if their heat could melt into each other and turn into a burning candle in the snowfall.   
Literally, since it's not a good idea to stand out on the terrace in January either. That's what he should have realized after he kept catching colds - but who was he to care about it, right?   
He cared about everything and nothing at once.  
He was lost and spoke.  
He spoke to nothing.   
But who would have answered him?

* * *

  
“Would you like to come over? I am bored"  
"How about we watch a movie the other day?"  
"Are you coming over?" - and this time he didn't write, he didn't try to write.   
But who would have he been to say no?  
He hated this, more than anything, but why would he say no? - he reassured himself. He thought he would solve this with this answer, he thought.   
Yet he knew it was stupid to believe - no one believed.   
Faith was no longer, it was no longer what anyone would have imagined it to be - but somehow he had to lie. To you, most of all. After all, no one was worried about him and there was no one to worry about.   
Only he, on the edge of the icy railing terrace, with a glass, knows what the hell it was.   
He never remembered what he was drinking - he was just drinking. Sometimes water, sometimes tea - sometimes _nothing_.

 _Nothing_ was always better than anything.  
 _Nothing_ took into account what he wanted - if there was anything he wanted.  
 _Nothing_ didn't take advantage of him.  
 _Nothing_ didn't hurt him. 

  
It took him a long time to get to the point where he started to fully feel why what he was doing was wrong. At first, he really didn't care about it, since he didn't care about anything - The nothing - but when he just didn't feel alive he started to realize.  
He began to realize that he had been ruined.  
He began to realize that he had ruined himself.  
But who would he be to admit that? Pride meant more than that.

* * *

“It won’t be better if you cry. Man up. Be a man.”

  
“Didn’t I tell you it was over? Why do you crave for me like a slut? ”

“Clay, it’s over. You are too much. ”

“Do you remember when I whispered nice things into your ear? Yeah - neither do I. Take it up, you were the only one taking it seriously.”

“If that’s what you need to ruin such a deep, amazing friendship! I don't need you anymore. ”

"Only you took it seriously Clay, enough."

“Don’t you realize I’m just saying the same thing over and over again? When did you become so stupid? Maybe the rum you always consume just to use me afterward got into your head? Looks like you eventually became used. Like a disgusting pair of socks. Man up. Be a man. ”

* * *

Maybe if he had known, it wouldn't be so cold now.  
Maybe it wouldn't be so cold.  
Maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you sooo much for reading !! personally, this is one of my favourite fics ive written i think :) i had so much fun with this. i hope you enjoyed reading as much as i enjoyed writing!  
> ily all mwah <3 /plantonic 
> 
> also, i spent an hour on the title and had no better ideas, thank you some dtss members for sending me a wikipedia page about flowers ily all mwah mwah


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